


Favorite Things

by Siren_Of_Old



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, M/M, cheesy af, cute relationship shit, favorite things, i puke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siren_Of_Old/pseuds/Siren_Of_Old
Summary: What's your favorite thing about your significant other?





	1. Dex and Nursey

**Author's Note:**

> *shrieks*

Hands.

They were such a silly, such an over-used cliché. They were something enamored poets would pay attention to; something they would forever immortalize in their poems. They were something that he’d read about, time and time again, the print on the page describing slender fingers and light wrists that seemed to hold the world’s grace within them.

But, yet, Derek still found himself writing about his. About the blunt fingertips brushing over his shoulders when he left the library as a farewell. The freckles against pale skin when his fingers were intertwined with his. The way dirt and grease from his work would smudge just under his palm, leading down to his wrist, making Derek wish he were talented enough to catch the image in its entirety, not only in words.

He wrote about them in the memo pad on his phone, in the margins of his English Lit notes, even once along his own wrist and skin in harsh black sharpie.

Most people who knew about their relationship figured that Derek would write about his constellation of freckles, or the way his hair reminds him of the autumn personified. While he wrote like that at times, it was his hands that took forefront.

Because those hands built things.

His hands rebuilt Bitty’s kitchen so many times over, and constantly helped make the Haus less of a danger zone to people like Derek or Chowder. His hands built their relationship, clutching Derek’s own dark-skinned hands, running over an arm or rubbing the stress of the day out of Derek’s back.

Those hands were magic.

Hands.

Really, they were a huge literature cliché. Especially when he read them aloud to the owner. Chirps would come out of a smirking mouth, amber eyes laughing as Derek kissed blunt fingertips. Chirps that would melt into real laughter that would melt into sighs and gasps as those hands gripped hair and tugged him down to meet Will for a kiss.

Will’s hands were Derek’s favorite thing about him.

 

* * *

 

 

Eyes.

Someone, he’s sure it was probably his grandmother, had once told him that the eyes were the gateway to someone’s soul. If you could look into someone’s eyes, they’d never be able to hide anything from you. The eyes gave everything away.

Will had always known this and had only watched people’s eyes for deceit and anger, until he met Derek.

Derek’s eyes were the most gorgeous green that Will had ever had the chance to see, and then get to know by heart.

He wasn’t as talented as Derek was with words, at masking his feelings into beautiful metaphors to whisper to him during Spring C, against the wall of the Haus living room during Epikegster, or in the warm comfort of his dorm bed. But, he knew how to read Derek, and that was enough in his mind.

He couldn’t spout poetry about the light forest green of Derek’s eyes, but he knew that that shade meant that Derek was feeling playful and Will should probably hide from him. He’s planning something.

He can’t exactly put into words the way that green darkens to a deep emerald, but then again, no one really needs to know that shade of Derek’s eyes. That shade only happened for Will, when their limbs were entwined on someone’s bed, clothes strewn about the room, breathing ragged against each other’s mouths.

He doesn’t ever want to describe the way Derek’s eyes will become this beautiful grey-green ocean when he cries. All he wants to do then is hold the man to his chest and help him through it the best he can.

He loves Derek’s eyes the most, because when he looks into them, he can see exactly how much Derek really loves him.

As if those dumb poems weren’t clue enough.


	2. Zimbits

There was no doubt that Eric R. Bittle was enamored of Jack Laurent Zimmermann. You could see it in his eyes, in the way he gravitated towards Jack, in the way that he grinned whenever those ice blue eyes were trained on him.

If you were to ask Bitty what his favorite thing about Jack was, you’d think it would be his hockey butt, or his smile. Something silly or sentimental like that. But, you’d be wrong my friend.

Bitty’s favorite thing about Jack was his chest.

Don’t get him wrong. Jack’s hockey butt was worthy of hours of worship, and his smile could light up an entire city. But, his chest was the cake- or rather, pie- for Bitty.

It wasn’t even a sexual thing, to be honest. Sure, the man’s muscles could make anyone drool and place in their mind as their favorite thing. But, for Bitty, Jack’s chest was a place of comfort.

It was Jack’s chest he could press his face into when they hugged after a long roadie. It was Jack’s chest that he could fall asleep on during movie night at the Haus, Shitty sleeping in Lardo’s lap next to them on the gross green couch.

It was Jack’s chest that Bitty was allowed to cry into and pour all of his worries out onto, arms tight around his shoulders as he sobbed.

It was Jack’s chest that he was allowed to press his cheek against after they made love, Jack’s heartbeat thudding out for Bitty to hear, to listen to until he fell asleep.

In Jack’s arms, pressed tight to his chest, Bitty felt the safest that he ever did.

Now, someone tell him why a hockey butt should be his favorite thing.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack loved Bitty’s singing voice.

There was no doubt about it. While he loved everything else about his boyfriend, there was just something about his singing voice that made Jack feel at home, made Jack feel safe.

The first time he’d heard it had been after a long night up with Shitty, and though he thought it lovely, he really wanted sleep more than Bitty’s dulcet tones in his eardrums.

The second time he’d heard it was the first time he ever actually stopped and slowed down enough to really hear it. Gentle, tenor strains floating in the air of the Haus kitchen, accompanied by the occasional bump of metal on metal from mixing. The heaviness in Jack’s chest had lifted in that moment and he knew.

(No, he didn’t.)

The first time he’d had a panic attack with Bitty in his apartment, it was Bitty’s singing that greeted him when he finally crawled his way back to the controls of his brain. It was soft in his ear as Bitty held him to his chest, arms wrapped around his shaking shoulders. The melodic words eased Jack back to reality, until he loosened his hold on Bitty. Even then, the singing never stopped for Jack.

Bitty had even sang after sex one time, humming under his breath about a halo, his breath warm against Jack’s bare chest. He’d wrapped himself tighter around Bitty then, pressing a loving kiss to the crown on his mussed hair.

He loved waking up to Bitty singing; in the bathroom, in the kitchen as he made the two of them breakfast, in the bedroom as he moved about to get dressed. It was the gentlest alarm one could ever have on off days.

It made him fall even more in love with the blonde man.


	3. Shits and Lardo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember: if they cut their hair, and you still think they're hecking hot, it's true love

Shitty’s flow.

She fucking loved it.

It wasn’t like other dude’s flows. It was soft and shiny, made for fingers to run through. And that was why she loved it so much.

Shitty was her best friend, and she loved him just as much as Bitty seemed to love Jack or Holster loved Ransom. He’d been there for her since she began, getting her into her spot as manager, keeping her hydrated during finals week.

Becoming her muse.

He was just so handsome. There was no other way that she could’ve done this. She was fated to fall in love with him eventually, why not through her love of art first?

She decided that her favorite thing about Shitty was his hair before she left for Kenya. They’d been holed up in his room, smoking together like they normally did. Except this time, the air held more than smoke and laughter. It held sadness, and dread of a sort.

He’d laid his head in her lap that night, and while she carded her hands through his soft hair, told her how much he’d miss her. How he’d miss her smile and her sass. Then, she’d laughed and told him that she’d miss him too. Miss him and his hugs.

She should’ve told him that she’d miss him more.

When she came back, he’d tackled her into a hug and it felt like coming home. She could smell his conditioner and the smell of her own laundry detergent that she left for him. That night, she’d laid next to him in his bed and just held onto him, her face pressed into his hair while his head rested on her chest.

She cried when she had to cut it.

But, the next day, seeing him comb the brown strands out carefully before turning to grin at her in his room, she realized something even more.

It was really love if he still looked that hot without his flow.

 

* * *

 

 

Shitty loved Lardo’s mouth, with its perfect pout and small smile. He wanted to be the one to make it turn up at the corners and make it pant with arousal. But, what he loved most about that mouth was when it frowned and opened up to show just how much of a badass she truly was.

The first time he realized that he could really love Lardo wasn’t after she had smiled at him or cried in front of him.

It was after she’d screamed in his face when he’d inadvertently hurt her feelings.

He’d stared in surprise at the words that spilled forth from her mouth, sharp words pointing out just how much he hurt her and how she demanded an apology right that second. Her mouth wrapped around the harsh tone of her voice and if it weren’t too much of a cliché and not consensual, he would’ve kissed her right then and there.

It didn’t even have to be anger either, to get Shitty to realize just how much he loved Lardo’s mouth. It could be during Epikegster, when she’s playing beer pong, her lips pursing into a line as she stared her opponents down. It could be at a game, looking up to see her pressed against the glass, her mouth open in a scream as Jack got a hatty.

When she left for Kenya, it was like his world dulled down without her around to add expression with that loud mouth. For days, he had dreams of her just sitting on his bed, smiling at him and mumbling about stuff from around the joint poised in her lips.

When she came back, it was like the world just sped up. Her grin hit him like a concrete block dropping from the attic of the Haus. Her smile hadn’t changed at all and it made him want to lean down and kiss it to taste it. Instead he tackled her and pulled her into his arms.

It was then that Shitty realized he wasn’t just in love with Lardo’s mouth, but all of Lardo.


	4. Holster and Ransom

When it came to Ransom, he could never decide what his favorite part of Holster was. If you ever asked, he’d most likely respond with “everything”.

Now, it wasn’t that Ransom wasn’t observant of his boyfriend, or that he just didn’t care to specify. It was the complete truth.

How do you pick just one thing to love about your significant other when there’s so much there that gets your love?

How do you choose between the hands that brush over your shoulders when you’re hunched over the desk in your shared room, your mind racing or the gentle arms that scoop you into a hug every time you feel the walls start to close in on yourself?

How do you choose between the legs that wrap around you every night when he loves you or the eyes that seem to smile at you even when he’s in the worst type of mood?

How do you choose between the shoulders that share the load of responsibility after Jack leaves or the thighs that pillow your head when you two have marathons in the attic, the laptop’s brightness the only light in the darkened room?

It wasn’t a job that Ransom could do, to sort through all of Holster’s good looks to find just one to stand out amongst the others.

 

* * *

 

 

Don’t ever ask Holster what his favorite thing about Ransom was. Seriously. Please, don’t.

Because if you do, Holster will tell you that it’s Ransom’s brain.

And then he won’t shut up about it.

Bitty thought it was really cute and heartwarming to hear Holster go on and on about Ransom. Everyone else thought that they’d puke if they heard it more than once a day.

Because according to Holster, it wasn’t just Ransom’s brain. He said it wrong. It was his intelligence, he’d correct. He’d gesture too, his hands waving around while he talked. How could someone hold that much information in his brain and not explode?

And when Ransom said something intelligent out of the blue? God, you should see the way that Holster would melt.

Sometimes, on the bus back from games, or in the silence of their attic room, Holster will ask Ransom about his studies, ask him to explain things to him so he understands when Ransom brings them up again in the future.

It’s not just the intelligence side of it either, to Holster. Most people know that Holster holds Ransom together during his stress filled moments, but Ransom does much more.

Ransom reminds him about his own tests, when he forgets because he’s helping Ransom with his. He tells Holster to make doctors’ appointments. Ransom watches his back just as much as he watches Ransom’s.

And that’s why Holster settles for choosing Ransom’s brain as his favorite thing about the man.


	5. Chowder and Caitlin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the actual fuck couldn't I find this ship in the relationship tag??

Her friends tell her she’s a little silly for saying so, but Caitlin’s favorite thing about Chowder was how innocent he still was.

Most guys just wanted to get into her pants. It was different with Chowder.

He didn’t take her out to get coffee just to try to show her off. He’d buy them coffee and then they’d take their plastic cups and go for a walk, hand in hand.

He didn’t take her to the movies just to try and cop a feel. He’d take her and then she’d spend most of the movie watching his face light up when something happened that he liked.

He braided her hair when she asked, and let her relax with him after a game, the two of them snuggled up in his bed or hers. He always kissed her softly, like she would break, and always smiled at her like it was the first time all over again.

Chowder was innocent.

He found joy and wonder in the smallest of things, like the leaves turning colors or Bitty’s new recipe. And Caitlin wanted to spend the rest of her life with that.

 

* * *

 

 

Chowder’s favorite thing about Caitlin? Gosh, don’t make him choose. Is he allowed to choose everything? Ransom already did that. Is that stealing?

Well, Chowder would have to say everything, regardless of it being stealing. (Fuck you Nursey.) There was just no way he could actually choose any one thing from Caitlin.

He liked how nice she was with him. He knew that he was like an energetic puppy at times, bouncing around and dragging everyone’s attention here and there. But, she was endlessly patient and was more than content with him gripping her hand and dragging her to the Haus for pie.

He really liked her eyes, and how they always seemed to glitter when she looked at him. They were bright to begin with, but when Cait looked over at him, it was like a kaleidoscope of colors. And then there was that little smile that he was sure she reserved just for him, tugging at the corner of her mouth whenever their eyes caught.

Then there was her build. He loved how skinny she was. He could nearly wrap his arms around her the entire way when they cuddled together in bed, her face pressed into his neck. He also loved how tall she was. It made it easier to kiss her without one of them having to bend up or down.

There was also her confidence. He knew that her friends thought that he was a dork, but she held his hand in public anyways and always made sure to make it known when he was with her.

He just loved Caitlin. That’s all.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and Kudos as you please! ^.^


End file.
